


Late Night Snacking

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, X-Files OctoberFicFest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8257018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: A sleepless Mulder and a long forgotten kitchen appliance.





	

The first thing Scully does when she hears the noise is reach for her gun. Slowly, her brain crawls into a state that resembles alertness only to realize that there's no gun on her nightstand; it's still in its holster and at the moment she's not sure where she lost it when she and Mulder ripped their clothes off each other earlier. She rubs her eyes, the darkness stays and is merely interrupted by the small numbers on her alarm clock: 2.13 am. Another clang from downstairs finally wakes her up. Quickly she rolls over on to the other side – where is Mulder anyway? – and rummages through his nightstand. No gun. 'You've gone soft, Mulder', Scully thinks as she untangles herself from the blankets.

Cold air hits her almost immediately and she picks up one of Mulder's hoodies from the floor. She doesn't have time to smell it and really, it doesn't matter. What matters is finding her gun. Scully steps on Mulder's belt, the buckle painfully pushes into her naked foot. Her hands reach into the pile of clothes that co-mingled just like their owners last night. Scully knows she's gone soft, too; she used to be so meticulous about their clothes being put away neatly. Passion is no excuse for crinkles after all. She's pretty sure she told Mulder that once (and she can still hear his laughter, even if it seems a lifetime ago now).

With her gun in hand, finally, she walks down the stairs. There's light coming from the kitchen, but that's all Scully sees for a moment. Without even thinking about it, she knows exactly which spots to avoid on the staircase. When she's almost downstairs, her eyes have adjusted to the light and she recognizes Mulder's lanky movements. Of course. She lowers her gun with a sigh and takes the last few steps, no longer caring how much noise she makes. Mulder, apparently, doesn't care either. He turns to her when he hears her approach.

"I hope you're not planning on shooting me. Again."

"Depends on what you're doing. You woke me up, you know." Scully puts the gun on the couch table. She buries her hands in Mulder's hoodie, trying to get warm. She really should have put on socks, but sometimes she forgets how cold it gets out here even in summer. And catching a possible burglar seemed more important than her state of dress.

"I couldn't sleep and then I had this great idea."

"To turn the kitchen into a war zone?"

"No, to make waffles." Mulder grins at her and hold out a waffle iron Scully has never before seen in her life.

"Mulder, why do you have a waffle iron?"

"I don't know, but I remembered I saw it the other day when I was organizing the kitchen." Scully sits down on the counter; anything to get her feet off the cold floor. She's noticed the much cleaner state of the house. It's not just that it is clean; the chaos is gone. Scully doesn't dare to believe that the chaos in Mulder's head has disappeared as well. She knows it can't, not really. But maybe that too is a bit more organized now.

"Couldn't you have waited until morning?"

"No," he tells her, opening several cupboards, "We can have some now and then leave the rest for breakfast." He gently turns her head to one side so he can open the cupboard behind her head.

"Aha!" He reaches inside and presents the bag of flour triumphantly to her. Scully smiles softly at his sense of pride.

"What else do you need?" She asks him. So far she only sees eggs and now the flour.

"I don't know. Sugar? Do we have sugar?" He's not really asking her, she doesn't think. He might think of this house as theirs and not his (she does, too). But the truth is that she hasn't lived here in months. The few times she's been here, she's mostly been in the bedroom or the bathroom. Usually when she comes down, he is already handing her a cup of coffee, kissing her lips gently and with a much sweeter taste than sugar could ever convey. So really, she doesn't know if there's any sugar in the house.

"Milk!" He exclaims, the search for sugar suddenly abandoned.

"Mulder, do you really know how to make waffles?"

"Of course, Scully. Who doesn't know how to make waffles?" The fridge is mostly empty, but Mulder finds a milk carton. He checks the date, nods and puts it next to the few ingredients he does have.

"We still need the sugar," he tells her, "but maybe you could hook up the iron already? I think it needs to be pre-heated."

"You think?" Scully asks but does as she's told. She clears the iron of some dust and can't help but wonder where it's even coming from and why Mulder has it. She knows they've never made waffles. If she thinks about it, they're not really waffle people. Or people who make any kind of food, period. She plugs the iron in and it hisses and gurgles.

"Mulder?"

"Hm?"

"I'm not sure we should use this waffle iron."

"Why not?" He turns to her and sees smoke rising from the small appliance that Scully immediately unplugs.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Mulder," Scully hops off the counter and hisses when her feet hit the cold floor again. She walks towards Mulder, who is holding the bag of sugar. She gently takes it from him and puts it next to the other things that won't be used now. Scully puts her arms around him and stares up at him.

"We can get waffles in the morning, all right?"

"That's not the same." He mumbles, fastening his hands behind her back. She soaks up the warmth he provides and closes her eyes. As sad as Mulder is, Scully can't wait to get back into bed and sleep. They may not have to work tomorrow, but the week has been long – and they're not getting younger.

"How about we buy a new waffle iron tomorrow?" Scully asks against his chest. It's been a long time since they've done anything like this; does it get any more domestic than buying kitchen appliances? They should really brush up on their domesticity.

"Do you think we could-"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"Oh, but I do. You were thinking we could go and buy one right now." He grins down at her and kisses her nose.

"Scully, your nose is cold."

"That's not the only body part that's cold, Mulder."

"I think I have some ideas how I can warm you up."

"Well then stop talking and do it." Another kiss lands on her nose, now a lot warmer. His mouth travels over her cheeks and finally lands on her mouth. His tongue slips between her lips and she moans gently. Mulder's hands wander on her back until suddenly, easily he picks her up. She'd protest, but she's tired and he's warm and so comfortable.

"You're my favorite late night snack anyway, Scully."


End file.
